Hens Laying Eggs

The sun is going down behind the mountain
As we drive home from work.
I’m listening to you talk about your day.

“Did you know that hens eventually stop laying
eggs?” I ask you as you head under Austin Bluffs.
“I guess it makes sense, really, if you think about it.
I guess they go through menopause just like people,
but I had never thought about it before. Had you ever?”

Glancing over at you, I see a look of utter confusion.
I think back on our conversation and realize I’ve
jumped subjects once again.
I’ve hopped from the tax return season to chicken menopause.

I’m abashed. This happens all too frequently.
I find too many wonderful things to notice and
think about while talking about other wonderful things
I’ve noticed and thought about.

You quietly ask, “Were we talking about hens?
Where did that come from anyway?”

I try to explain about seeing the article in
my latest issue of Country Living a few minutes prior,
but in the middle of my explanation I start talking about
another topic that has caught my attention.

I’m truly not an airhead, a ditz, nor a flake.
I don’t think I have Alzheimer’s…yet.
Perhaps I have Attention Deficit Disorder?
Or maybe I’m so smart my mouth…
……can’t keep up with my brain? (Bah!!)

On the other hand, maybe my brain
can’t keep up with my mouth?
All I know is, I’m happy 90% of
my waking hours and 100% of my
sleeping hours (when I can’t talk).

I read somewhere it’s rare to be
that happy most of the time.
So, maybe, having a mismatched brain
and mouth isn’t so bad if it
creates happiness?

Or maybe I’ll never quit laying eggs…